


Will Someone Stuff My Porcelain Dolls? They're Not Hollow Enough III

by NoSirNotMeNotEver



Series: Will Someone Stuff My Porcelain Dolls? They're Not Hollow Enough [3]
Category: Impulse (Comics), The Flash (Comics), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Blood Kink, Choking, Dacryphilia, Diapers, Emotion/Psychological Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Extremely Underage, Its hard to explain sorry, M/M, More like suffocation, No penetrative sex how original for me, Ooop part three, Oop, Rape/Non-con - Freeform, Via bottle, Watersports, bottle kink, forced social isolation, mildly, older man/younger boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:22:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29791857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoSirNotMeNotEver/pseuds/NoSirNotMeNotEver
Summary: "Shuddup, boy. This is what yah deserve, ain't it?"Tears ran down freckled cheeks, and Max pressed the bottle filled with his seed into Bart's pink pouty lips, the boy immediately starting to thrash away from his grip."Stop moving, Bub. You're only going to make this worse."Because it was a punishment.Bart had disobeyed him, had almost convinced one of his teachers to fuck him, that damn Sheridan that Bart was so fucking fond of, and Max had decided that he was going to take Bart and move them by the end of the week.He had gotten the house, had fixed it up and everything, made it completely self-sustaining, and he was going to drag Bart by the hair if he had to.
Relationships: Bart Allen/Max Crandall, Bart Allen/Max Mercury, Bart Allen/Mr. Sheridan - Impulse (Comics) (one-sided)
Series: Will Someone Stuff My Porcelain Dolls? They're Not Hollow Enough [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178582
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Will Someone Stuff My Porcelain Dolls? They're Not Hollow Enough III

**Author's Note:**

> Please check the tags before you read! Enjoy!

Max's grip in Bart's hair tightened, massive curls getting painfully tugged as Max forced his head back, taking in his boy's button nose and pink bow lips as he shook the bottle in his hand, and he crooned at the terrified whimper he received for his efforts, Bart trembling in useless fear.

"Uncle Max, puh-lease, don'–"

"Shuddup, boy. This is what yah deserve, ain't it?"

Tears ran down freckled cheeks, and Max pressed the bottle filled with his seed into Bart's pink pouty lips, the boy immediately starting to thrash away from his grip.

"Stop moving, Bub. You're only going to make this worse."

Because it was a punishment.

Bart had disobeyed him, had almost convinced one of his teachers to fuck him, that damn Sheridan that Bart was so fucking fond of, and Max had decided that he was going to take Bart and move them by the end of the week.

He had gotten the house, had fixed it up and everything, made it completely self-sustaining, and he was going to drag Bart by the hair if he had to.

He was so pissed that his hands were shaking, that he was forcing the bottle down Bart's throat with more force than was necessary, that Bart's throat was definitely bruising and his tongue was being painfully pressed into his teeth.

He didn't give a care, too consumed with his fury.

"Swallow."

Max warned, and he watched the muscles in Bart's mouth work, the small boy trembling from where he was naked except for his diaper and his socks, the diaper dry and fluffy, Bart not even hard. 

Well, as hard as he could get.

Max didn't give a single care to whether or not Bart was even getting any pleasure, too angry to do anything but force Bart to choke and cough, saliva and seed alike bubbling from his lips.

He ignored Bart's frantic tapping on his leg, Bart's pupils narrowing down to pinpoints in fear and oxygen deprivation, and he only ripped out of his mouth when Bart's eyes started to weakly droop. 

He checked the bottle, before he looked down, Bart retching and coughing, his shoulders shaking.

The bottle was only halfway empty, and he left Bart take in a few ragged breaths before he shoved it in again, the small boy frantic. 

"See, Bub? This is what happens when yah try to show other people that yah love them; they yell an' send yah back to me. Mr. Sheridan don't love yah, Helen don't love yah, Wally don't love yah. Only I do, Bart. And that's why I have to punish yah; so that yah learn."

Max knew that Bart wasn't listening, too trapped in his animalistic need to escape, but Max was stronger, and as long as he had that grip on Bart's hair, he was able to keep him in place. 

"But don't worry, Bub; soon yah'll never see 'em again. Soon I'll never have to punish yah like this. Ever again."

Max's eyes darkened as Bart suddenly voided himself, so distressed that he couldn't hold it, his weak bladder collapsing in on itself, tearing down what little bladder control Bart was able to get back.

There was nothing but piss in the diaper, as Max gave him enemas every morning, before Helen woke up, so Bart was completely clean.   
Made it easier to fuck him.

And besides, Max loved seeing the desperation on his boy's face when his bowels cramped.  
Max kept forcing it down his throat until the bottle was empty, and then his tugged it away, more saliva and seed and even blood from where Bart's tongue had dug into his teeth dripping from those pink lips. 

Max set the bottle down, kneeling down and picking Bart up as the poor boy started to cry in earnest, snot and tears staining his face.

Max moved over and sat on the kitchen table, the house completely empty except for them, as Helen was out at a friend's house and probably wouldn't be back until morning, doing whatever middle-aged women did, and Max smoothed a hand down Bart's back, rubbing soothing circles into a knobby spine.

"'S alright, Bub. 'S okay. Yah took it so well, yah were such a good boy."

Max ignored the heaviness of Bart's diaper, the twelve-year-old burrowing deeper into him, trying to get closer to the comforting warmth he offered. 

Max had never thought that it was a good thing Bart was so touch-starved until now. 

"Shh, Shh. That's it."

Frantic Interlac filled Max's ears, and he nodded, knowing enough of the futuristic language to know that Bart was frantically apologizing, sobbing pitifully as hiccups broke up his staggered words. 

"Alright, alright. I know that yah're sorry, an' I forgive yah."

Max purred, and Bart stiffened.

His boy was so smart; he always seemed to know what Max would say next.

He hated it.

"Why did yah try ta sleep with yah vice principal, Bub?"

"I-I was in– in the boy's locker room, a-an' I– I was i-in the bathroom stall s-so that nobody s-saw meh diaper, a-an the– the other boys don't like that. They– they call me all sorts o' mean names, U-Uncle Max."

Bart blubbered into his shoulder, staining Max's shirt even more, but he didn't mind, encouraging Bart onward.

"A-An' as soon as I g-got outta the bathroom an' was changed, they– they started tryin' ta beat o-on meh, an' the teacher stopped 'em,   
s-so they sent meh to tha vice principal's office to tell 'em how it went down."

"An' then?"

"An' Mr. Sheridan was so nice, Uncle Max,   
he said that those boys won't pick on me more, said he would call their parents, an' I didn' want 'em ta get punished, 'cause I bet that their parents don't use lube like yah do, that it hurts them a'lot more, 'cause you're so nice, Uncle Max, an' you use the lube, so I begged him not to punish 'em."

That made Max's heart bloom.

In order to help Bart better adjust, he told Bart that this was normal behavior for adults, to fuck their children and to force them to lose bladder control, to make them use the bathroom in diapers and force them to bend over. 

"How did that lead to yah fuckin' him?"

"I-I didn' fuck him, Uncle Max, I swear! He said no an' then called yah."

"I don' care 'bout that part. Tell me how it happened."

"Y-Yessir."

Max squeezed Bart's ass through the diaper, even more piss soaking his pants, but he didn't care at all, knowing that he would change Bart's diaper after this.

"Well, Uncle Max, he– he said that I was very noble that I didn' want them boys punished, said that he would make sure that they got a stern talkin' to anyways, an' so I thanked him. Well, I tried ta."

"Thank him?"

"In...in the way yah make me thank yah, Uncle Max."

Max felt his stomach drop.

It was one thing to be told that his twelve-year-old "nephew" had tried to sleep with his vice principal, but it was another to be told that Bart had tried to blow his teacher in some sort of show of gratitude. 

Shit.

Boys Bart's age did not know what sucking cock meant, which meant that Sheridan knew that Bart had somehow been taught to do so. 

And there was only person that could've taught Bart to suck cock in his household: Max. 

Thankfully, he would move him and Bart out by the end of the week.

So it didn't matter, but still. 

The less people that knew that he was grooming Bart, the better. 

Including Helen. 

"An' he said no?"

"I got to mah knees an' started to unbuckle his pants, an' he told meh to stop. An' he looked all sad before he said that he would call yah. I– I thought that I had been bad. Yah like it when I say thank yah, so I– I started to take off mah shirt, because maybe he would like to fuck me instead, an' he told me to sit down an' wait while he called yah. I didn' know that he would be so mad! Honest! An' I didn't mean to make yah mad, Uncle Max! Promise!"

Max quietly shushed Bart as he started to cry again, voice raspy from the bottle being shoved down his throat, and Max stood up, taking Bart with him.

"Well don' worry, Bub; yah'll never have ta see him again."

"Uncle Max...whaddaya mean?"

"Bart, baby,"

Max carried Bart up the stairs and into Bart's bedroom, Dox looking at them before licking his chops, and Max shooed the dog away, the small animal already knowing what seeing Bart like this meant.

Max hadn't let Dox fuck Bart again after that first time (mentioned in Man's Best Lover), but that didn't mean the dog still didn't try to mount Bart again, snuffling between his legs and trying to hump Bart's thighs. 

Max didn't drug him anymore, as Bart was now willing to do anything he asked of him, but still, Max refused to let that dog back into their bed. 

"Bart, we're movin', Bub."

Now was probably the worst time to surprise Bart with the move, but Max was past caring, settling Bart on the bed.

He gave the silent command for Bart to stay still before he made his way to his bedroom, grabbing a new diaper from where they were hidden under his bed, and then he hurried back, Bart obediently still laying on his back, his lower lip trembling as he hoarsely whimpered, lips still smeared with blood and come. 

Max leaned down and roughly kissed it all away, licking it from his boy's face.

Bart hesitantly kissed him back, still a little nervous after Max had practically torn out his throat, and Max gently pulled away, smearing pink kisses onto Bart's neck. 

"Tha's it, Bub."

Max gently lifted Bart's hips, and the boy made a weak noise of protest before Max took the diaper off of him.

Changing Bart had become a mechanical, everyday process, the experience barely sexual, but it never failed to quiet Bart, the energetic boy's cheeks flushed with shame and eyes watery. 

Cowed. Submissive. Dependent.

"U-Uncle Max, whaddaya mean we're...moving?"

Max looked up from where he was taping Bart's new diaper, the small boy's eyes wide, and Max sighed, petting Bart's chest. 

"Bub, we're movin' by the end of the week. We're goin' into the more rural parts of the state."

"B-But mah friends–"

"Bart, how many times do I got to tell yah? They don' really like yah. 'S why we're movin'; so that no one can ever hurt yah again. I know what's best for yah, an' I wanna move us out. I'll let yah get chickens an' a goat an' whatever yah want when we get there, alright?"

"Alright, Uncle Max. I just...'m just sad."

"It's alright to cry, Bub."

Max fake-soothed, a completely different expression on his face compared to the one when he was practically suffocating his boy, but Bart just pressed against him, trembling a little.

Max rubbed Bart's chest again, and his boy stiffened, those strange yellow eyes wide and begging.

"Can...can we go ta bed? I love yah Uncle Max, really, but...I don't– I don't wanna be fucked. Not tonight."

"Well, alright, Bub. We don't hafta fuck, but I at least want yah to warm me up."

Cock-warming was a favorite thing of Max's, especially now that Bart had to wear a diaper, and it always felt so delicious to watch as Bart squirmed, his little prostate begging to be pushed against instead of just lightly prodded.  
It warmed his heart.

"Can...can we go ta bed? While...while I warm yah? 'S just...'m real tired, an' my throat hurts, an' I'm...'m a little sad, Uncle Max. I don' wanna leave!" 

Max didn't reply, instead unbuckling his pants as Bart's big, yellow eyes widened at the suddenness of it all.

"Now you be quiet, boy. 'Else I'll make sure yah won't be able ta go ta school to say goodbye tomorrow."

And just like that, Max descended onto his boy, eyes dark.

Bart gave a nervous meep, and Max smirked.

Good.

He liked his boy afraid.


End file.
